Signing The Soul Away
904 Words
Mikel’s POV
I spent the rest of the night sitting in the worn armchair by Katherine’s window, watching the streetlamps flicker and fade as the sun began to peek over the city skyline.
I hadn't slept a wink. My mind was racing, replaying the text message Jason had sent her.
Every time I looked over at Katherine, curled up in a ball on the sofa and looking so small under my old basketball hoodie, a fresh wave of protective fury hit me.
I had loved this girl since we sat in that stuffy History classroom together at seventeen.
Back then, I was the guy who had everything—money, status, a spot on every varsity team—but I would have traded it all just for her to look at me the way she looked at Jason Richmond.
I had moved into this building two months ago, hiding my identity and living like a regular guy just to be near her, to make sure she was okay. And now, I realized she was far from okay.
The silence of the early morning was shattered by a heavy, rhythmic pounding on the door. It wasn't a knock; it was the sound of someone who believed they owned the property and everyone inside it.
Katherine bolted upright, her eyes wide and bloodshot. "It’s him. Mikel, that’s Jason. I know his knock."
"Stay behind me," I said, my voice dropping into a cold, hard tone. "I mean it, Katherine. Don't say a word."
I walked to the door and pulled it open.
Jason Richmond stood there, looking like the same entitled jerk he was back in high school, though his expensive charcoal suit was wrinkled and he smelled like stale coffee and rage. He didn't even wait for an invitation; he tried to push past me.
"Katherine! Get your things right now. You ignored my night shift demand, and you didn't answer your phone. Do you have any idea the chaos you've caused at the office?" Jason roared, his eyes landing on her.
"She’s not going anywhere with you, Jason," I said, stepping directly into his path. I was four inches taller and twice as broad, and I made sure he felt every bit of that difference.
Jason finally looked at me, his lip curling in a sneer. "Mikel O’ Connor? The quiet kid from the back of the class? What are you doing in her apartment at six in the morning? Get out before I call my security team and have you thrown out of this neighborhood."
"I’m not that kid anymore, Jason," I said, my voice vibrating with a threat I didn't bother to hide. "And she doesn't work for you. Not anymore. She’s my fiancée."
The lie felt right the moment it left my lips. Katherine gasped behind me, but she didn't deny it.
Jason laughed, a harsh, ugly sound that echoed in the small hallway.
"Fiancée? You’re marrying this loser, Katherine? You’re so desperate to get back at me for choosing Brenda that you’d settle for a bench-warmer? Look at this place! He can't even afford a decent coat, let alone a life for you."
Katherine stood up, her legs shaking, but she walked over to stand beside me. "He's more of a man than you'll ever be, Jason. He doesn't use sick grandmothers to get what he wants. Get out of my home. Now."
Jason’s face turned a deep, bruised purple.
"Fine. Marry the trash. But don't come crying to me when the hospital kicks your grandmother out onto the street this afternoon. You're dead to me, Katherine."
He slammed the door so hard a framed photo on the wall fell and shattered. The silence that followed was heavy and suffocating. Katherine collapsed back onto the sofa, her face ghostly pale.
"Mikel... why did you say that?" she whispered, her hands trembling. "Jason will follow through. He’ll stop the payments. And I... I can't be your fiancée. I can't be anyone's anything right now."
"Why not?" I asked, kneeling in front of her.
"Because I'm pregnant," she choked out, the words finally breaking free.
"My period is late. I've been throwing up for days, but I told myself it was just the stress from the office. But it’s been two months since that night at the club... the night I made a mistake with a stranger. I can't let you protect me when I'm carrying another man's child, Mikel. It wouldn't be fair to you."
My heart broke for her. She was so desperate to believe it was anything other than what it was. It was time to stop the games. It was time to give her the truth I had been carrying since that night in the VIP room.
"Katherine, look at me," I said, my voice firm but tender.
I stood up and pulled my white t-shirt over my head, dropping it to the floor. I didn't care about the "struggling neighbor" cover anymore. I needed her to see.
Katherine froze. Her eyes dropped to my chest, landing on the left side, right over my heart.
There it was. The dark, detailed ink of a butterfly with jagged, intricate wings.
"The tattoo..." she breathed, her hand reaching out, her fingers trembling as they hovered just an inch away from the ink. "The sandalwood incense... the voice in the dark.
Mikel?
It was you?
You were the man in the mask?"
- Writer
